The Telling of the Tale
by Gibay
Summary: Mingo and Daniel encounters events that challenge them but will reinforce their friendship.
1. Disclaimer

_The telling of the tale_

Disclaimer

I am a native French speaker. I have absolutely no formal training in the English language. However, I have used it all my adult life, nearly 30 years now. This story was written entirely in English by myself as were my poems and two other stories in this fandom.

I have also written a few fanfics in different fandoms in the last 10 year.

However, this is my first Daniel Boone fanfic. No copyright infringement is intended. This is done only in good fun.

Daniel Boone aired in French in Quebec during the early seventy. I had never heard the true voice of the actors, characters and the sound of the show until the dvd's were released in the fall of 2006.

I am a native French speaker and couldn't possibly have done this story without the help of Paula Davis. Paula has gone above and beyond the call on duty. She has endlessly corrected my lack of apostrophes, my seriously wrong verbs conjugations, my aggravating grammar and my "not-so-good-English". It is a formidable task to correct someone without formal training/education in English. Paula has worked incredibly hard and I want to publicly thank her. I would never dare to post it, if she hadn't gone through it, with such generosity on her time.

I also want to thank Susie Coffman, whose kindness helped me believe.

I am aware fanfics writing is all in good fun. While English isn't my mother's tongue (nor my father for that matter), I still aim to write as good as I possibly can. I respect the Daniel Boone's characters and the words of any language too much, to do wrong by them.

I will appreciate any help in improving the story.

I can take all sorts of comments, as long as they are honest and come from wanting to do justice to the characters and the language.

I am rating this story as M, for there is a small section that challenge the nineteen sixty era in which the show was broadcasted.

Johanne Brière, Montréal, Qc.


	2. Prologue

_**The telling of the tale**_

**Prologue**

As was their tradition, they gambled the first guard duty. They had eaten their fill tonight, at the time of dusk, before the dark settled all around; now the embers of the fire were dying and neither of them felt like adding any wood to it. It was a nice warm late fall evening, the sky clear, the stars bright and the small red glow was bathing them in a quiet mood of peace. Mingo had lost the dice roll and so it was, as their friendship had made the game, that he was the teller of the tall tales this evening. The Cherokee tongue flowed easily and he never hesitated, knowing his brother of the white blood, understood everything, that his tale was of a time past, before his father's people had even the means to cross the wide ocean between their land.

When it was Mingo telling the tale, he always spoke in his mother's tongue. This had begun when Israel was still a small boy and he had shown as much interest in learning to speak "Injun" as he had in learning to hunt, trek, trap and explore. It had been easy for Mingo during a two-day trip with the white haired child and his father, to teach him, patiently, the names of trees, of wind, of sky, as they encountered them. Daniel had remembered his son's pleasure at repeating them all. Soon after, even without the boy's presence, the two friends had begun to trade the tongue as they did the trust.

Whoever won the roll, would choose the language – and the language implied who would tell the tale of the evening. More often than not, either winner picked the Cherokee language. Mingo had many tales of the old times, stories he heard as a child, when the elders would gather the children around the fires and say the words of the time before the white men. Some of the time, very rarely, he might tell stories of his family or his youth. In that hope always, Daniel would pick the Cherokee word when he won. For years, their friendship was built on the English words they shared, their laughter as well as their fight would be done in the language of the new world. Israel's naïve quest for knowledge had brought to the fore, that there was still an unspoken difference between the friends. Mingo had a peace of mind when he wove the stories and spoke with the words of his grandparents from this land.

Daniel would ask him one of these days to tell a story to his children and grandchildren.

Tonight, however, Daniel was the sole listener for the Cherokee's story.

And so began the tale that Mingo of the Cherokee shared in the dark night, of the late autumn, in the ninth year of their friendship.

He was a toddler, a quick one, fast on his feet since he could walk and Talota would often wake to find him gone from the lodge, in the pre-dawn fog, sitting by the old woman who could not sleep so well anymore. He was eating the fresh hot morning bannock that she had baked earlier, as she was braiding his hair, long already for his age. He was known in the village for being the earliest riser amongst the youth and as long as the old mother could be there for him, no one worried about his safety. The village and the villagers took great care in the children raising. His hands were sticky from the wild honey that he applied generously to his piece of bread and the old mother made sure his braids were tight before he had a chance to put them in his hair. She had a fondness for this little one, so eager to hold to her breast and to hug her every morning with his joyous smile of the freshly woken. Today, he was full of bristling energy; the fathers were due to come home from the hunt and all the children had gone to sleep last night, anxious for their return. He had not seen his father in such a long time but he remembered a promise he had made – he would bring him the hide of a deer so his mother could make him a vest just like his own. The idea that his father would hunt for him cheered the boy to no end. As the village woke up and other children joined the little child, women started on their daily tasks, and the quiet of the dawn died down.

The little Cherokee boy was playing near the cornfields with two little girls his age, when a tumult was heard from the far edge of the forest – the hunters were back. He ran, as did all the children around, toward the tall warriors who came clamoring, laughing hard enough to be heard by their mothers, their wives and their children. As his father came forth, he leaned down toward his son and handed him a fine little piece of skin with a ceremonial gesture that made the boy treasure all the more the present his father had made him. Talota came forth as well, beaming with pride and took from her husband the venison and from her son, the skin for his new vest; she then left the child with the man.

"Come here son" said the tall copper skinned brave, "I have another present for you"; hiding behind his back, on the same shoulder as his long bow, was a small bow, made for a little boy's hand and two small arrows with a fine piece of stone at the end. "I will take you on a hunt tomorrow at dawn".

«So it was», Mingo said smoothly, « that Run Early, the great-grandfather of my mother had his first hunt in the forest of Ken-tah-teh when he was but a little one; he fished and hunted so early and so efficiently and his mother had to let him go quickly, that her skin wrinkled early on. She had daughters and sons after and before him, but none that wanted to grow up so fast and so quick. The vest that his mother made him has been passed on to all the toddlers in his line; I wore it as well, and it sits still in my lodge waiting for another one of the line of Run Early's mother to claim it. Even my own father could not help but wonder at the work done on it, to withstand so many years. Run Early died decades later, before having ever seen a white man on the land, and having fought many wars with the Shawnee. But he only had one child, a girl, who became princess of the clan with her marriage to a peace chief. But that my friend, is a story for another time. Sleep now, Daniel, for I shall awaken you in time to stand guard while I sleep».

Daniel grinned; there was nothing he could do but hope, secretly, that one day, he would learn more about the line of Run Early and the daughters of the line that led directly to his friend. In the meantime, there was barely any light from the near burned out embers, and a cloud was above in the sky, obscuring even the stars, so he lay his head on the blanket he had spread and covering his shoulders with his buckskin jacket, he wished Mingo a good night and promptly fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Dawn came under the watchful eyes of Daniel, he had made a fresh fire, went to collect some fresh water. Brewing some coffee, he knew the smell would wake Mingo, who was not a late sleeper to start with. They had to collect furs left hidden in a new cache today, while carrying the ones gathered and skinned in the last few days. With luck, they could be at the site where they left their canoe and be home in two days time. He was never tired of living outdoors and was never unhappy with the time spent with his Cherokee friend but he did cherish his family and also needed the time in their company. Israel was mad enough as it was; fourteen and already nearly as tall as Mingo, he had wanted to go with them badly. But Daniel knew his son was good at guarding the homestead and at making things safe for Becky. Mingo and Daniel had already planned on another hunting trek, before the fall turned too cold. Daniel guessed if he asked his wife to stay either with Jemima and her family, or back at the fort, he could allow Israel to come next time. And then perhaps, with his son present, Mingo might tell more of his family's history in the evening tales!

"So Daniel, I see the coffee is ready my friend. Did you plan to feed me as well? ", greeted the darker-skinned man as he slowly got his spirit together in the cool air. He had had a little less than four hours sleep but that would be enough to last him until the next night. Going home felt good; he had promised the widow of a good friend, dead more than twelve moons already, that he would bring her meat and skins for her daughters and herself. He liked the feeling of being needed and he liked keeping the promise he had made to his dying friend, a man of his word he would remain whatever turmoil their time and their land would bring them. Yes, he was looking forward going home. Bright Rainbow was a welcoming woman and her daughters were lovely. He knew the youngest one would make his lodge ready for his arrival. Last time, he had gone hunting for them, she had made him a brand new pair of lovely beaded moccasins. Bright Rainbow would sometimes come and join him in his lodge in the night. The encounters were friendly, sometimes full of tenderness and respect. And at other times, they were full of passion and delightful laughter. He was looking forward to her next visit, a smile beginning to spread on his face. He knew her dead husband, his old friend, would not disapprove from up above, in his happy hunting ground. He shook those pleasing thoughts from his mind as he stretched himself half-awake.

" Trout will do? There is jerky left in my bandoleer if you prefer?"

"Trout it is", said Mingo, as he got up, stretching up his long limbs, and walking away toward the river, for morning ablutions and a few moments to himself to thank the Creator of all.

Soft steps, quiet, yet energetic, led him to the flowing river. He removed his moccasins, his feathers, his belt, his vest, his trousers, and advanced fearlessly into the cold water. Shivering quickly, he nevertheless went ahead and dove into the flow and started to swim strongly. And it was only when he heard a loud commotion from their night's camp that he finally decided to come out of the water.

He only took the few seconds required to pull his trousers on, to shake the water out of his hair and started quietly, quickly and surely to walk back toward their camp. Daniel knew how to take care of himself and he had all the weapons at his disposal. Nevertheless, Mingo didn't intend to simply walk into whatever was happening; he circled the area noiselessly, confident that no one could hear him, unless he wished it. And it was from an observation point, behind a large oak that he realized things were not as safe as they ought to be. Three men, aiming rifles at Daniel, were threatening the tall Kentuckian. Mingo put his fingers to his mouth, whistling to Daniel, making him aware of his presence. He came a little closer, wanting to know what was going on.

One of them was checking out the camp, counting blankets, weapons, drinking cups; he picked up Mingo's knife. "So you got an Indian friend around, do you, Mister?" moving it around, to show his companions. "We ain't too fond of people who befriend them, you know. So where is this Injun of yours? Better get Chuck around here quick, to look for this one", he added turning toward the smaller man of the trio. "Chuck will dig this Injun out of his hole quick enough".

"Yep, there's an Injun with me, probably down in the river bathing. But he ain't no friend of mine", declared Daniel, smoothly enough, in that tone of his that left no room for disbelief. "You want him? It's no skin off my back, but he's a good help in the hunt and worth his keep".

"If you give him a weapon, you're his friend", said the leader of the group.

"I let him have a knife and a tomahawk. He skins the animals, he chops the wood. He knows his place", Daniel was dancing around, not quite knowing the men. Mingo's rifle was hidden partly between the folded up blanket he had used as a pillow, his bandoleer and the log where he had sat last night during his time on guard. With a little luck, they might not see the rifle and realize the Indian in question was the white man's equal.

"We grab Injuns everywhere we can, we got a few back at camp. We're taking them to Harrisburg for a special auction, we make good money sellin' Injuns", answered the leader once more.

Both Daniel and Mingo knew the facts about selling Indians as slaves. Daniel would play it to the hilt, Mingo just knew it. Nodding his head to no one, the Cherokee went back near the river, before Chuck would arrive. He rushed over there, took a full minute to gather his wits and tried to guess what and how Daniel would play this. Exhaling a deep long breath, he put his moccasins on and chose to hide his vest, feathers, necklace, armlet, and bracelet in a hole by a small rock, under a tiny birch tree. Walking with his head down, as in shame, without the trappings that made him the proud warrior that he was, he could pass easily for Daniel's servant, for Daniel's slave. He had scars on his body; he was left to fend off the weather according to his master's goodwill – owning a knife to skin animals, a hatchet to cut wood. Yes, Mingo could play this. Daniel would have the hardest part. The weather was going to turn soon; he did hesitate at leaving his vest in the small hiding place. But his coat was back at camp, he was pretty sure Daniel would find a way to get him warm. He also unbraided his hair, keeping the small leather tie in the hem of his breeches. Should they be extremely late getting to Boonesborough, their tracks might be gone; being able to place the colorful little pieces out for friends to find might be useful in the long term. And without his braids - his long and wet unkempt hair, gave him an even more downtrodden aspect.

His mind made up as to how he would play it, he walked, cold, back to camp, making sure to walk as only a man with shame would. After all, Chuck might be around.

Daniel was still talking his way out, distracting the men, when he advanced toward him, a bland look on his face. Mingo could do imperturbable to perfection and it was quite an advantage right now. Head bent, he didn't even look surprised to find strange men around. "See, he's here, told you he wasn't far", Daniel said, then turning toward Mingo, started to scold in Cherokee, pushing him back to where his rifle lay. Mingo took it all in stride, being pushed backward, tripping and falling on the ground. He pushed his own gun farther under the fallen log, while the two men standing over him started to laugh. Mingo began to stammer in his native tongue, which displeased the leader. "What you saying Injun?" - putting his booted left foot on Mingo's stomach. Daniel made no move to protect him.

Daniel said, "He don't speak much English," which set one more piece of the game into place. Mingo picking up his cue, loudly said "No speak white man tongue, no speak, no hurt Mingo, Mingo no speak white man tongue" adding gibberish and fear into his tone. Daniel bent down to pick up Mingo's coat and threw it at him absentmindedly and then he demanded, "What's your name? If you want my Injun, you'll have to pay for him. If not, get out of my camp!"

The man called Chuck arrived at this moment, grasping quickly the situation. "We're not paying for any Injun, we're getting paid for them. Let's go John. You either bring this one with us or let's get going. We have a full day's walk ahead".

With one look, Daniel knew Mingo was not willing to let this go. The prisoners of these men might be enemies of the Cherokees, but they should die with honor on a battlefield, not as slaves in another country. So it was that Daniel knew they would go all the way into this fight for the Indians prisoners' freedom. "Payin' good money? I'm interested you know, you think this one can fetch anything? He's been working for me for a long time but he's still strong and sturdy, as you can see. I might be interested in going with you to Harrisburg to sell him". Mingo had risen, after John had let him up, still with that look of stupidity on his face. He was putting his coat on, slowly, as if slightly dimwitted, keeping his eyes down, as if fearing being pushed or thrashed. He was wondering how hard this was going to be for Daniel. They had played the cover game before, but never had Daniel 'owned' him and all that it entailed. He would try to play it as safe as possible, aware that Daniel had to prove himself to this gang.

"Well if you intend to come with us, let's go", said John, impatiently, halfway convinced.

"What about my furs and skins? He's got to carry them, I won't leave them here. There's surely a market for them in Harrisburg, ain't there?"

Then he added in Cherokee, turning to Mingo "Go on, the furs, take the furs with you" as if explaining to a simple-minded person. Daniel had the nagging suspicious that, at least Chuck, if no one else in that group understood some Indian language. He had no intention of being caught by using anything remotely friendly in Mingo's tongue, or English either. Mingo shrugged, and went toward the copse of trees where they had hidden their pack of furs, and a piece of salted venison. If he could, he would leave the meat behind to give himself more freedom of movement.

It was Daniel's turn to carry the pack this morning and Mingo knew Daniel would make it up to him later on, even if Mingo didn't feel it was necessary. Mingo knew Daniel would be upset at the words and actions he would be using on him, but with humor and respect, they had always managed to overcome the worst problems in their lives. They had faced wars between their people and survived them with friendship intact. What were a few insults thrown in for good measure!

Chuck watched Mingo but didn't follow him. Mingo made sure the furs and skins he had prepared for Bright Rainbow, were still packed as tightly as the night before and since they were packed separately from Daniel's furs, he left them hidden. He tried to put the pack on by himself, pretending to be slightly clumsy in the process. The pretense of his being half-witted and clumsy would work in their favor.

Daniel, feigning impatient anger, bounced toward him, spun him around and fixed the leather straps of the pack on his back, grinning and slapping his shoulders. From the position of the slavers, it looked like Daniel was harassing him, but from their point of view, it was a very quick and friendly pat of reassurance.

"Ain't you gonna tie him up? Won't he run away?"

"I never tied him before, he's not all there you know. I found him, on the ground, hurt, about 10 years ago. When he woke up... Well, he ain't ever been bright. Can't track. Can't find his way. He baths. Cooks. Skins. He stays close by. I feed him, he stays around and works. Can't complain."

"Well tie him now. Our livestock isn't a happy breed, if they see him loose, we may lose a few of them. All that money!"

Daniel opened his bandoleer and pulled out a piece of rope. He used his knife to cut a length of fair size, and telling Mingo to lift his arms, he made a good task of tying his hands together firmly. It left Mingo helpless but Daniel couldn't make it any looser without compromising his position.

Mingo made as if to complain but Daniel still had the knife in hand and waved it around his ribs to good effect, never coming close to his coat, much less his skin.

Once, this was done, Chuck and John gave the signal, Daniel nudged Mingo to follow their lead and he did so obediently


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The slavers' camp was less than an hour's walk, at the pace that Mingo had set; walking slowly, falling frequently, like a man living in fear. At their camp, the shorter man, whose name was Cody, put a leash around Mingo's waist, after Daniel had removed both the rope from his wrists and the furs pack from his back. "Don't worry Mister, I'm just putting him with the livestock", said Cody to Daniel.

"You better give him something to drink and eat; he'd had nothing this morning yet", Daniel hoped they wouldn't throw his food on the ground, he knew Mingo would pick it up to act his part. At the same time, having Mingo near the other prisoners would give him a chance to size the situation up. Daniel and Mingo would need to meet at some point. Harrisburg was four days walk, in the opposite direction they had intended to go.

John called to Daniel "Nathan, come here, I want to show something".

Mingo hadn't learned what names Daniel had given the slavers, for himself. Since he was supposed to be dimwitted, Daniel hoped this might go unnoticed; Mingo was yet again out of earshot and Daniel didn't know how he would explain to him.

They had a rather comfortable camp; there were five more men, three guarding the roped-in area where the prisoners were and two patrolling the perimeter. Daniel had a feeling, from what he could see, that there was a least a dozen Indian prisoners, more than enough to overpower the slavers, if Mingo could get them to cooperate. For some warriors, a truce, even to save their own hides, was hard to establish. Some also did not speak each other's languages. Mingo had many tongues, it would be helpful.

So Daniel made a point to forget about Mingo and his safety for a bit and approached the area of the camp where John, the leader, waited for him. John had made a makeshift table from of a rather large boulder, worn flat by rain, snow and centuries of harsh weather. A decent fire was blasting some heat, the temperature had gone down. A map of some sort was spread on it. As Daniel approached, he saw an old leather ledger as well, standing tall by the boulder.

"Here, you want an idea of the worth of your Injun? A man I once knew made this a while back; you don't need readin' to understand it. See it's all drawings of Injuns sizes, if they're strong or not, old or young. The old ones, no one wants but wimmen, young and pretty bring a fair amount. Your Injun, though he's a strong one and all, won't bring much money cos he's getting old, and been fightin' too long. Bein' dimwitted though, he probably won't be fighting back much, or wantin' his freedom. You might get somethin' for him. We take 'em young and healthy, no older than 20, from peaceful tribes. The ones from savage tribes are dangerous and we ended up killin' too many »

Daniel was quite dismayed at what he saw on the piece of thick paper. It was all drawing of men, women, and children, with a price below. "I got some reading, you got something in that book down there?"

"It's me accountin book, with all the money we made since we got that business goin'. I have to pay them guards there, they be strict with the money owed them. And when they kill one of them there, they want a bonus, they don't get we make money on live Injuns. I change them often. Now Cody, Chuck and I, we been together for four years now. We sell about sixty of them Injuns a year and we expect with the money we'll make in another 10 years, we be all set for a nice piece of land in them new lands down south."

So John was a proud achiever and a loud talker, with a goal of profit and no sense of decency when it came to other human beings. Daniel knew he could use that against him somehow. With fewer companions, more profit. At least, Daniel hoped he could work this into John's mind.

Mingo was led to a tree inside the roped-in area where the dozen or so prisoners were held. His escort tied the end of the leash to the tree, and Mingo found he had about a six to seven foot circle of movements, keeping him at bay from the other prisoners. He sat, downplaying his strength. He was actually quite distraught at what he saw; these prisoners were hardly any older than Israel. All the prisoners were Shawnees; it would be hard to get them to work with him. They were all of an age that would know how to fight, hunt and shoot, even if they had never fought men before. They would hated Cherokees as a fact of life, and would not abide by a truce, even for freedom. One of the brutes, that were guarding the Indians, came toward him with a tin cup and a piece of hard bread and handed it to him; Mingo took it quickly, eagerly, grasping it as if his life depended on it. It would be a good thing to eat as often as it was offered. And it would be even better not to antagonize those guards; viciousness seemed to be their nature.

He drank the lukewarm water; he had to try to get these youths to trust him, in the hopes of gaining their freedom, without betraying either him or Daniel. It would not be as easy task.

Shortly afterward, Chuck and Cody called to everyone; it was time to get going. There was only about six hours of daylight left; they wanted to travel as far as possible before making camp for the night, knowing they would also need a small break at midday.

The three mules were repacked, including Daniel's furs; the prisoners were tied together, their wrists bound. The march began on the trail.


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It had been two days since the encounter with the slavers. Mingo had made no progress in approaching any of the youths. As they walked the endless miles of the trail, Mingo kept trying to speak to anyone close to him. Each time the guards rebuked him.

Daniel had been unable to get anywhere near Mingo. It seemed they would end up Harrisburg in two days hence, and that all the Indians, including Mingo, would end up on the auction block. This prospect didn't please the tall settler one bit. Daniel's only satisfaction was in knowing that since three mules carried provisions and the furs, at least everyone was fed. At night, the would-be slaves were tied to trees in a roped-in area, without blankets or fires. As the ground had been frozen the last two mornings, sleep must have been rather uncomfortable

Daniel was fidgeting with his knife, during the noon break. Three of the hired hands had gone fishing, hoping to improve on cold jerky. Daniel had hunted for fresh meat the day before, but none had been given to the prisoners. Since most of the guards were fishing, he felt better staying in the camp during the break. Cody and two other hired hands had been issued guard duty. This might be just what Daniel needed. He had been left to his own devices, not being asked to guard, or being guarded either. He wanted to get Mingo's opinion. It was not too late for both of them to exit the camp; they could disappear quite easily, if they chose too. He also wanted to know if Mingo had gotten any idea about the potential cooperation of the young prisoners.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, brewing by the fire, and carrying it, he approached Cody, whistling a tune he had taught his son in his early childhood. "Rather cold lately, wouldn't you say? Shouldn't we be getting them warm food and a fire tonight. You don't want 'em getting' sick. I always fed my Injun fine and kept him warm, so he could work better."

Cody nodded in agreement. "We never slaved Injuns so late in the season, and we thought we ought to try for one more load; perhaps you're right Nathan, them young'uns aren't looking all that fine. What do you propose?"

Daniel was rather glad. "How many extra blankets you got with you? And tonight, let's corral them where we can build them a shelter or a fire of sort, I wouldn't be surprised if it would snow soon. Think I can speak with my Injun, he might tell them comfort was coming their way tonight; make them all happy about the walk this afternoon."

He didn't even wait for an answer, and pushing his luck, lifted the rope up and went into the guarded area, walking tall and proud toward Mingo. His old friend was sitting by himself, slowly eating rations. Daniel could not help but feel a guilty pang. He sure would get Rebecca to fix plenty of hot food when they returned home.

"Hey Mingo, you okay? " Not wishing to arouse suspicions, Daniel spoke in English.

He nudged his friend with his booted foot, and asked again, in Cherokee this time "Hey Mingo, got enough food, you okay?"

Mingo having finished his meal, got up slowly. Head down, looking up at Daniel, he murmured very quietly, "I could do with a fire and a decent meal."

Having positioned himself in order to hide Mingo as much as possible from Cody and the guards, Daniel carefully handed his friend the warm coffee cup.

Mingo lifted his hands up, showing his swollen red wrists, smiled and took the cup eagerly. He took a long and warm comforting sip and then said loudly in a mixture of Cherokee and Shawnee "I'm cold, hungry, tired. Why am I treated this way? What did I do wrong?" He spoke slowly, so Daniel could make sense of the gibberish language. He had done this hoping to attract the attention of the Shawnee youth closest to him. Mingo knew that Daniel knew the sign language very well, the opportunity they had right now, had to be grasped.

The youth, having heard words from his tongue, lifted his head up. It was obvious he was curious about what was happening between the two men. His face showed his bewilderment as he watched Mingo sipping the tall white man's beverage.

Daniel saw the guards were also checking out the situation. It was therefore very important to play it safe. He was pretty sure none of them understood Indian languages but it would not do to increase their suspicion.

Daniel made the sign for friendship and aimed it toward Mingo.

Mingo handed the cup back to Daniel and returned the very same sign and said, "I trusted you, why do treat me this way now?" all in Shawnee.

Mingo was trying to convey their friendship to the youth, while Daniel and he were pretending to be owner and slave.

Daniel handed the cup to his friend and pushed him against back against the tree he was tied to. Putting an arm loosely across Mingo's chest, so the coffee wouldn't spill , he murmured loud enough for the youth to hear . "We got to get out of here soon Mingo. Don't you want to get out too Shawnee warrior?" Daniel switched to English quickly and added in a harsher tone, "Stop whining Injun, you've been very lucky in the last years. Your life is about to change. Trust me." Then Daniel said, releasing Mingo enough, so he could sign to the youth, "Trust me, Trust both of us."

Mingo, at last less restrained, made once more the sign for friendship and try to take another quick sip.

However, as Mingo moved his hands, he saw Cody watching.

Cody yelled, "Nathan, watch out, he gonna burn you with your coffee; he wants to hit you!"

Mingo threw the few drops of coffee at his friend and made as if ready to attack, screaming loudly in Shawnee, "Trust us both, he's my friend!" Daniel barely had time to react.

Lowering his head, in order to avoid some of the coming blows, Mingo tried to hit Daniel in the stomach. His friend counterattacked easily, quickly pulling his knife from its sheath and in no time at all, Mingo was on the ground, being pounded by Daniel and threatened by his knife. He hadn't even tried to defend himself.

Mingo, from his position on the ground, saw the two guards crossing the rope, to come to 'Nathan's' rescue. One of them, in his hurry to reach them both, pushed into Daniel. Daniel was holding his knife far enough from Mingo but the sudden unexpected weight of the guard , made him lose his balance.

Mingo never stopped complaining during the scuffle, complaining loudly in English, Cherokee, and Shawnee, remaining in 'character' to fool the guards. He was actually telling the young Shawnee prisoners to trust Daniel. But Mingo did more than complain, as his bigger friend tumbled on him , taking his breath away. He felt a sudden stab into his flesh ; Daniel's knife had pierced his left thigh.

Daniel rose as quickly as humanly possible. He had no choice but to pull his knife out of Mingo's leg. Blood spurted out quickly.

The beating and the cutting were not part of Daniel's plan. He hoped, it wasn't undoing what they both aimed to gain: the trust and collaboration of the would-be slaves. He looked down at Mingo, the wound had to be cauterized and quickly. He pushed the clumsy guard off, strode toward the rope and then the fire; bending down, he put the blade into the flame for less than a minute. He heard Mingo groaning behind him, the guard was taking malicious delight in kicking him. Daniel retraced his steps, and without a second of hesitation, ripped Mingo's trousers, and grasping tightly Mingo's leg , he applied the red hot steel to the wound.

Sleep would be hard tonight for his friend. His leg would throb, his ribs would hurt; he might get feverish with the walk ahead and the lack of warmth and decent food. Daniel wanted more than ever to conclude this affair, and as soon as possible.

Cody was laughing, so Daniel felt he hadn't much choice and added his own laughter to his; still making the sign for friendship toward Mingo and the other prisoners.

As he left the corralled area, Daniel saw Mingo put an arm to his waist, as he tried to rise slowly, testing how his leg was faring and surveying the damage done to his body. Mingo lifted his head at that moment and smiled faintly toward Daniel; reassuring his friend that he was fine. Or as fine as

could be.

Daniel joined the white men, still laughing along. He went with Cody to get some more hot coffee by the fire.

Cody motioned while handing him a fresh cup, "You better not drink in front of him anymore".

Daniel had to get Cody to agree to warmth and food, so he disagreed with good humor , "He couldn't take me if he wanted to; I ain't worried. No Cody, we have to keep them all warm today and to feed them better.".

Cody was still agreeing with his assessment. "You think he'll be able to walk, what with that wound now?"

"He'll keep 'til tonight. But give him a blanket, he'll need it on the trail this afternoon."

Though fishing was best done in the morning, the fishermen were coming back up their trail, with a few fish on their lines. Daniel looked back toward the Indians encampment. Mingo had sat down. He looked completely exhausted.

It had to end and soon.


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

John was nodding off, his rifle on his leg, his head against a tree, getting his legs warmed up. Daniel brought him a cup of coffee while the hired hands began cooking their catch. "John, I spoke with Cody; tonight when we make camp, let's rope them Injuns closer together and give them with a fire. They'll look healthier for the auction and they'll walk faster in the morning. They're all dragging their feet by now. I'll try to catch some meat for supper; rations aren't going to keep them going for the next two days. Looks like snow coming, you know that, don't you?"

John felt quite put off by "Nathan's" comments and answered, nastily, "It's Chuck's job to make sure they can keep up, not yours."

Daniel was ready with his answer. Divide and conquer. Hopefully. "Chuck, Chuck, what does he know. I ain't seen him huntin', fishin' or makin' sure they stayed healthy. Your book, the one with the pricin', is about healthy Injuns. Money is money, more money is more money. Even my strong Injun doesn't look as good as he did when we began to started for Harrisburg, now that he's hurt, thanks to your guard, I won't be getting the money I hoped for. I think, I'll just keep him myself and slave Injuns on my own, with his 'help'."

He had John. He just knew it. Telling him, he was willing to keep his Injun, to help in his own little enterprise, made sense. No pay to give. And that dumb Injun of his was strong, able and had no desire for anything else, but to remain by his side.

They resumed the walk shortly after all the white men had their fill of warm food and hot coffee. Mingo managed to be tied near the youth who had witnessed all the conversation between himself and Daniel. It wasn't entirely luck; the youth had made some efforts to be near Mingo as well. And he was willing to listen. So even with the guards working hard at keeping everyone quiet, they managed to exchange enough words to form an honest to goodness truce. By the time that they reached their night's camp, they were far from being friendly toward one another. But they had a common goal and they would work together to achieve it. Mingo felt he could trust the young man, whose name was Wings of Wind.

Mingo had been able to remain warm on the trail. Cody had put a blanket around his shoulders as they began the afternoon walk. Cody had even handed him a walking stick, to alleviate the pain in his leg. But as he finally got to sit for the evening , Mingo knew the exertion had cost his leg a lot. His thigh was badly swollen.

Daniel went off, hoping to catch some fresh meat, even that late in the day. He had asked Cody to rope the prisoners in a tighter group, without consulting John or Chuck. And he hoped that a fire would be burning near the Indians, so if he could provide meat, they could get filled bellies.

He also needed to tend to Mingo's wound.

Daniel had managed to shoot a few hares and as he came back to camp, he saw a fire inside the prisoners' camp. They were huddling close to it, a few blankets spread around. Mingo was sitting farthest from the fire, his back against a strong old oak, not alone. The smaller of the young Shawnee was sitting close by his side, sharing Mingo's blanket and his body heat. Daniel thought Mingo was asleep. He quickly skinned the three small hares, picked up sturdy sticks and impaled them. He called to the youth who had been listening to them during their midday break, tossing the skewered animals in front of him. Quickly Wings of Wind got up, picked them up and had them broiling above the fire, before any of the guards decided to take them away.

Daniel went to Cody once more." Got any bandages, medicines, herbs, for my Injun ?"

Cody got up slowly, went to one of the mules, opened one of the packs, pulling out a few herbs and clean cloths. He didn't look as receptive as he had been during the day; Daniel hoped it was the colder evening and not anything that had happened while he was gone hunting.

Daniel went to the fire, got a cup of coffee; as there was no hot water, he wasn't going to act too demanding. He threw some of the herbs in the bitter beverage. And telling the guard, to take care, that he intended to give this cup to his Injun, he crossed the roped-in area.

Mingo was asleep, but it was not a good sleep. He was shivering, despite the blanket and the young man called Little Bear beside him. Daniel told the brave to get some food near the fire and to try to bring a piece of meat to Mingo. Then again, playing master, he nudged once more his friend. "Mingo, hey Mingo, lazy Injun, wake up".

Mingo opened exhausted eyes, looked up at Daniel, tried to get his bearing. It was a good thing the Cherokee was a quiet one by nature. Remembering the charade, he started to complain some more.

"Drink this Mingo" said Daniel , hard tone, no indulgence. "Once you're done, I'll get one of them Injuns here to bandage your leg. Stop complaining, or you won't get food.".

Mingo had no stamina to get up, he lifted his hand up, grabbed the warm tin cup. It smelled awful. What had Daniel put in this. Nevertheless, he drank the foul smelling coffee, if for no more reason, than it was warm. Keeping his head down, he managed to murmured in Cherokee "My leg will be fine Daniel, don't worry my friend." He didn't dare say more. Daniel badly wanted to check the wound himself, but knew that wouldn't do. The young brave came back, flushed from his time by the hot flame; he had a small piece of meat in his hand , which he handed to Mingo. And as soon as Mingo took it, he sat down , on his left side. Gathering and sharing heat together. The younger one and the older one, bounded and pledged , on survival, through the unspoken truce dealt on the trail.

Daniel walked toward the fire, addressing Wings of Wind "See to it that my Injun's wound is cleaned and dressed before the night fall". Gesturing friendship and trust, he left the Indian encampment.

Dawn came, cold and frisk. Daniel was grateful that there was still no snow. Fresh coffee had been made by Chuck and again Daniel took a cup full of herbs to Mingo. Cody had seen to it that all the Indians got a decent warm breakfast.

The young brave had stayed the night with Mingo, even if they were the farthest from the fire. Mingo looked slightly better this morning. Daniel managed to get him a new dressing as well; his trousers had been ripped quite a length from knee to near his waistband, when Daniel had cauterized his wound yesterday. Walking kept him warm, but walking also required much of the energy he needed to properly heal.

It wasn't long before they took to the trail. The days were getting shorter and colder. The young braves were not wearing appropriate clothing. Cody let them share the blankets on the trail; to each his turn. Mingo's young companion never took the blanket from Mingo, even when the older Indian try to force it on it. Daniel was walking up and down the long line of men, keeping an eye out for opportunity and wanting to get to know the layout of the land. They would need to walk back, probably on a different trail.

It was obvious to Daniel keen sense of observation that the spirit of the young Shawnee was rising faster than the sun. They outnumbered the slavers and they knew they could count of two experienced men to guide and fight with them. Daniel knew Mingo, even feverish, even half-sick, would fight with endless courage and strength.

A few times, he saw John and Chuck in animated discussion. As they were in the lead, Cody, at the end of the line, was kept away from their growing dissension.

All in all, Daniel felt almost as confident as he felt the young braves were becoming.


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Gray sky above the trail, the slavers called a halt after a few hours walk. Mingo was having a hard time keeping up. He had finally decided to remove the blanket, he had a slight fever and felt too hot. The young warrior had accepted it at last. But as soon as they stopped walking, he started to shiver.

Daniel noticed this right away, and after he finished brewing his medicinal herbs, he insisted 'in the master's' tone he did incredibly well, that his 'Injun' covered himself and sat by the fire.

They exchanged a look, a very quick look . Rich with both worry and reassurance, full of the strength and the need, and mostly the insurmountable courage of their friendship. Daniel needed to remain strong, it said, so Mingo could be strong as well.

Daniel ate quickly and went ahead on the trail; he wanted to get his bearing. Wings of Wind changed Mingo's dressing , he had applied some poultice of dried herbs handed over by 'Mingo's owner' twice. The swelling had gone down during the night ; but during the long hours on the trail, the wound started to rebel.

Mingo spread his long legs out, drank as much warm liquid as he was handed and ate a bit of the rations.

When Daniel came back, he managed to wink at Mingo. The time was near. He took his knife out of its boot sheath and inserted it in his belt, on his right side.

Chuck called the end of the break; the guards got the prisoners up. Mingo rose with the help of his young companion, making moaning sounds. As the guards lined them all up, to began trekking again, Daniel approached Wings of Wind and whispered "Are you warriors ready to fight?".

Wings of Wind smiled fiercely, nodding once.

Mingo was handed his walking stick, and limping , followed quietly. There was a sudden brisk wind – an omen perhaps. He looked up above, the cover of the clouds was lifting; it would snow before nightfall.

They had been on the trail less than a hour, when they came near the sharp edge of a ravine. Daniel had slowed his stride, he was almost back with Cody. Cody was following the band of men, with two of the guards and the three mules; the three of them were slightly offguard when it came to 'Nathan'. He had been with them almost three days and was showing the same disdain toward Injuns as they did.

Wings of Wind , Mingo and his young companion were halfway ahead, walking beside the other three guards. Chuck and John were ahead of the group.

Mingo had Daniel's knife hidden in the sleeve of his coat, he had made a quick grab for it, when Daniel had walked beside him. Daniel knew that by now, three or four of the Shawnees had a measure of freedom. With the ravine on the left of everyone, it was going to be now or never.

Daniel was confident that Mingo and Wings of Wind could overtake their three guards. He knew that with cunning and one shot, he could dispatch Cody and his two thugs. However, this left, John and Chuck armed, facing defenseless, unarmed youths. He had to create a riff between them. He needed a tale to spin.

He chatted for a few moments with Cody and then walked ahead of the group.

Chuck wasn't too thrilled about 'Nathan's' intrusion into their group. And it was getting worse. John had made a few too many comments. Comments about too many guards, not enough profits. Taking care of the livestock, lest they became unhealthy. All kind of ideas that made Chuck very suspicious.

John and Chuck kept arguing constantly now.

As John saw the tall man walking and waving toward them, Chuck decided to step back to meet Cody.

If he had seen the sudden glint in Daniel's eyes, Chuck most certainly would have stayed in the lead.

Daniel felt ready. And he hoped Mingo was since Chuck was now walking beside the three guards , alongside the youths.

John was alone in the lead.

As Daniel approached John, he looked back. Chuck was talking with the guards on the trail. Daniel grinned inside and out, and lifting his rifle as if it were too heavy, waved a hello. John was nearly a foot shorter than Daniel. Quickly, efficiently, he put the butt of his rifle to John's head who fell down silently. The young Shawnee behind were ready. Daniel handed John's knife to the closest one who made short work of the ropes around his wrists and helped his companions. Another one of the youth took John's rifle and passed John's hatchet to a companion. The three armed youths followed Daniel led.

Mingo saw Daniel running toward him, he nudged Wings of Wind, and quickly grabbed the closest guard, using the haft of the knife to knock him out. It looked effortless but Mingo knew better. He had to let go of his walking stick, he was slightly off balance. The three other men saw the threat right away, and pointed their rifles toward the Cherokee. Wind of Winds had picked up the walking stick and battered the guard closest to him while Little Bear and another of the youth, free of the bonds, raced for the trees. Chuck called to Cody but by then, Daniel had reached the end of the group and was aiming his long rifle toward Cody's head.

"You intend to keep breathin'? why don't you put this gun down, or better yet, handed it to that mighty young warrior there"

Little Bear and his friend came back, Shawnee war cries on their lips, they were brandishing strong sticks of wood. The three armed youths started on their war cries as well, while running toward Wings of Wind.

Cody had lowered his gun, the two guards with him hadn't. Little Bear was small. The two guards were aiming at Daniel, he bend down and got a hold on Cody's rifle.

Two warriors by Wings of Wind had overpowered the third guard, but Chuck was aiming his rifle straight at Mingo's heart.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A rifle shot erupted loudly in the forest.

Two men came forth. The taller of the two said, "If I were you, I would put all those rifles down. Lew here and I have walked a long time to find our friends. We ain't feelin' all very charitable!"

Daniel and Mingo found themselves looking at a very tall, sturdy young man, the voice and face belonging to Daniel's cherished young son. Behind the second rifle stood Lewis Peterson, Israel's best friend since the Peterson family had settled a few miles from their homestead, about four years back.

Israel added for emphasis, "And don't you go thinkin' my rifle's empty, I've learned with the best how to reload a rifle and how to shoot straight".

The guards by Daniel immediately threw their rifles on the ground, followed with not much hesitation by the last guard facing Mingo.

Lewis stood his ground while Israel walked forward. "Let Mingo go, 'NOW' or you'll find yourself without a right arm". Israel was aiming his sights straight at Chuck's back and his tone was as fierce as his father was in a dire situation.

Chuck had no choice. The Shawnee stood around him, glaring; some were even armed; all had his death in their eyes. His guards were disarmed, useless, acting cowardly. Cody had his hands high above his head. Fear was everywhere around him. A flow of anger and rage was brewing from the Shawnees. Even the wounded Cherokee was showing an unexpected strength, despite the threat to his life and the wound in his leg.

Chuck had no choice, but he was so incredibly furious that he couldn't see that he didn't. He wasn't willing to be at the mercy of savages and those who would protect them. His rifle never wavered from Mingo's heart; his arm didn't shake.

His eyes darting all around, nervous, enraged, he looked for a way out, hoping to keep his hide intact and hoping to get that Cherokee out of the way. He never heard Little Bear snuck up behind him. He never felt death coming.

When he fell down on the ground, blood poured out of his shattered brain and snow fell suddenly, as if the sky knew that a monster had died and that the earth should hide him away for all eternity.

Then, just then, Mingo faltered and fainted.

Little Bear barely caught him. Wings of Wind and Little Bear hovered around the tall wounded Cherokee. He was resting peacefully on the ground, covered in warm blankets. Israel sat by his head. A strong fire was going.

Israel's knowledge of Shawnee was limited but nevertheless, when he had walked toward the group, he had tried his best "How is my friend?" he had asked. No one had answered, they had been quite suspicious. Little Bear had recognized the worry in the white youth's eyes; a worry he shared. He had made an overture and it had eased the tension.

Daniel and three of the youths nearest him, had picked up the rifles, had taken charge of all their captors. Daniel had also tried to get them to tie the guards, not to kill them. He had had his hands full and hadn't been able to get away to greet his son or Lewis, or go to Mingo. He knew his 'brother' was safe under the supervision of the young leader of the braves. It had taken some sweet talking and calling on Wing of Winds as the last resort, to play on his honor, on Mingo's honor, on the Shawnee sense of honor, to leave Cody, John and the guards alive, behind them, tied to trees. He didn't know if that had been merciful or not.

They had walked away from the area right away, the Shawnee refusing to bury Chuck, to light a fire by their captors. After more than an hour walk, Mingo woke, he had been tied to one of the mules and they decided to make camp.

Daniel had gone hunting for fresh meat with Lewis and when he came back, he found his son watching over Mingo, alongside Little Bear; the Cherokee was still laid flat. How long would he agree to it remained to be seen!

He finally had a chance to hug his son and to exchange words with him. On the hunt, Lewis had told him that Rebecca had wondered at the length of her men folk's absence. It wasn't longer than usual, she just had a 'feeling'. And Israel , like his father, always believed in Rebecca Boone's feelings. He had asked Lewis along , and they had been able to find some tracks. And they realized things were wrong , when Israel had found colorful pieces of threads loosely attached to trees. Pieces of threads he believed belonged to a certain friend of his, that was Cherokee. Daniel had many reasons to be proud of his family.

Daniel was checking on Mingo's wound for the tenth time in half an hour. Mingo could not handle being smothered so much. "Leave it alone Daniel, I am quite fine, it's going to heal nicely. Let's work on getting these young men home to their tribe". He was limping badly as he said that. Daniel regretted the fact that Mingo was so stubborn; he just had to make him understand that he had to ride one of the mules, of his own free will.

There was 14 young Shawnee braves, proud of the fact that they had overwhelmed more experienced and armed white men. They tended to forget that it was Israel's and Lewis' timely arrival that had reversed the course of the upheaval.

The young warriors had only the clothes on their backs, eight rifles, knives and hatchets, some powder and shot , and a few clubs for defense. Daniel had his rifle and a few shots left, with a little powder in his horn; Mingo had Daniel's knife and hatchet. They had blankets. They had cunning and swiftness of foot, despite Mingo's limp. The ground was frozen; the next snow might remain on the ground. Daniel was concerned about the younguns' lack of clothing and their refusal to cover themselves with the blankets; why must they all be stubborn.

If he could convince Mingo to accept help, they probably all would cover themselves appropriately. Mingo was the proud Cherokee warrior, who refused to be looked upon as if he was nothing less than strong and courageous. Daniel knew that he could use his sense of duty and responsibility to the youths around them – he would call a halt soon and convince him to ride the rest of the way.

There was at least a three days walk before reaching friendly Shawnee territory. While Mingo's wound had been cauterized by Daniel's knife, it did not make the pain easier. But Mingo refused to admit it. Not only had he not recovered all his strength but the fight and the flight was depleting his energy rather fast.

Daniel and Wings of Wind were walking ahead on the path; the young warrior had become the leader of the Shawnee and walked proudly. Little Bear was walking by Mingo's side; he had grown quite attached to the Cherokee.

Israel, Lewis and two of the older Shawnee were closing the march, carefully making sure of everyone's safety.

Daniel had managed to talk Mingo into riding a mule. He had more or less blackmailed him into it.

"Mingo", he had said, "the sooner you get on the back of this here mule, the more miles we'll walk in a day and these young braves will stay warm carrying the packs, wearing the blankets. They have to see you accepting help. They need to protect you now. And look at Israel, he's worried for you, you don't like to see my son worrying , do you ?" It had worked. Mingo wanted to protect those youths , he cared for them more that he did about his health.

They had distributed the provisions and furs on the back on the braves ; they claimed their rights to it loud and clear. The Cherokee was no longer a 'dog' in their midst , he was a valiant warrior, their companion, their brother. It was their duty to protect him as Mingo had done the same for them.

On the second day , on their walk of freedom, they had to tie Mingo to the animal; his fever had risen, he couldn't eat , he was losing strength rapidly. Israel , Lewis , Little Bear and Wings of Wind took turn hunting for fresh meat. They had kept the slavers' rifles when they left them behind.

On the third day, Mingo was barely conscious and unable to utter any words; his sleep was restless; his pain obvious, his fever high. One of the youth knew a little bit about plants and medicines; he went with Little Bear to look for something that could be brewed and would help ease his fever. Little Bear had set himself as Mingo personal servant.

When a Shawnee party came on the trail, seeking their youths, Daniel let Wings of Wind do the talking. On his word, they had been welcomed into their village.

Daniel and Israel had been extremely well received in the Shawnee village but it was Mingo who had been turned over to Little Bear family. He had been adopted by his parents, who had provided him with a pair of breeches, a vest, and even feathers to adorn his hair. This village would not think of the Cherokee of Chota as their enemies anymore. This would allow Daniel to tease Mingo endlessly Mingo was so fond of raiding Shawnee; he was now their brother and as such had a duty to protect their furs, ponies and families from such thieving.

Lewis had been asked to head home. He would first carry news of Mingo , to Chota and then of Daniel, to his wife. He had been told where Mingo had left his rifle and the furs for Bright Rainbow. Two men would escort him as far as the edge of Chota.

Little Bear's mother and the village medicine man had provided the best care to Mingo, who was getting strong enough to walk the rest of the way, to Boonesborough. Daniel knew he would not be able to talk him into riding anymore.

On the night before they were to leave the Shawnee, a huge fire had been built in the heart of the village, meat was broiling; women had made a warm soup. Mingo was not very hungry, but the smell of the hot soup had been enticing. He sat on a log, very close to the fire, blanket on his shoulders, Israel on his right and Little Bear on his left. Daniel was talking with the chief. Elders were readying themselves with young children around their knees for a story of their ancestors.

Mingo looked around. And volunteered suddenly, surprising Israel to no end.

"If the elders would allow me, could I tell a story of a white man and a Cherokee's long friendship?"

Mingo had been talking for nearly a hour. The children had moved away from the knees of the elders to his. Young mothers had removed the younger ones, who had fallen asleep on their blankets. Little Bear made sure Mingo was always warm and well supplied with hot beverage - but never lost a word of the story.

The tale had spoken of a meeting long ago, on a trail , where Mingo was chased and was saved by Daniel. Of the establishment of a white men's settlement on Cherokee land and of a peace treaty signed by Boone and Menewa. Of the war , that erupted at some point , of the fight , of the pain, of the death. And of the effort in creating a peace that would last, a tree planted, and at last he concluded with …..

"In the summer that followed the planting of the peace tree, Menewa called Boone to Chota; three warriors of my tribe had been sent with gifts to present to Boonesborough. They requested Daniel Boone for a celebration in the village, they needed witnesses. His wife, his children, and three settlers accepted the invitation. Women had made many belts of deer skin to offer to all the guests. Menewa's adopted daughter had made Boone a fine winter vest. And when the all the white people and Daniel Boone arrived in our village, there was a dance , a fire, a meal shared. There was tomahawk throwing and wrestling contests. The children were all gathered and sat around the fire , so they could listen to the elders explain the age old tradition." , Mingo voice was luminous and even, in the gathering darkness.

"Then the medicine man called Boone and he called me. We stood by him while he lifted his head to the sky, chanting an old prayer to the Great Spirit. Once the song was finished, he put his sacred knife to the flame. And he asked us , if we would find it in our heart to celebrate peace. Daniel answered first, saying that peace between the white men and the Cherokee was a precious gift that he needed forever in his life. I said I would stand by my Cherokee brothers until my dying day, but that peace with the paleface was also my dearest wish. He then lifted his hot blade to the Great Spirit, chanting yet again. And then, he made a small cut in the palm of our right hands and asked us, to willingly exchange our blood.", he stopped talking at that point. His eyes went straight to Daniel's eyes. They exchanged a deeper , longer look.

Daniel remained silent, but all in his posture, said "Mingo go on, do tell".

"We took each other's arms, we held tight to one another, and our blood was exchanged. Daniel Boone is my blood brother. His family is my family. I have lived with his friendship for many moons, have seen his son grow into a man, his daughter bear him grandchildren. There is peace still between his people and mine. What we went through on the trail was false; Daniel has never treated me, as anything but a man, his equal, his brother. I am proud to sit around the Shawnees fire tonight, as the free man I have been and will always be. I am proud to be a part of Little Bear's family and I have accepted the honor of the adoption. Daniel Boone is also part of Little Bear's family, with my blood, from my blood. You have allowed me a great honor by letting my words be spoken by your fire".

So finished the tale of Mingo of the Cherokee, who spoke from the heart , around the Shawnee fire , after the hardship endured to free young Shawnee braves from white slavers. Now this tale belonged to Shawnee tradition and so the elders would tell it to the children , in seasons to come.

When dawn rose, so did Israel, Daniel and Mingo. They were given provisions, wishes and an escort for the day. Mingo promised Little Bear he would visit him in the spring and would go on a hunt with him.

They left the Shawnee village behind.

And they headed home.


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Daniel had fretted so much about Mingo's leg, making sure to have him stayed 'inside' the cabin while he healed, that Mingo just about couldn't handle his support. It was time for him to get home, even if he had to crawl all the way to his lodge.

Rebecca was somehow, a little more attuned, to her husband's old friend. "You want out of here, don't you Mingo?" she asked as she was dressing the wound for the last time.

"You seem to know me better than Daniel, Rebecca. He can be too much of a papa bear and I need my village, my home, the outdoors; I need my own, Rebecca. You understand, don't you?" wondered Mingo to the woman whose friendship had always been so important.

"Listen Mingo, your wound is nicely healed, you have no more fever, you've been eating me out of my house and home" she said, laughing, "I will send Israel with you to Chota, as soon as Daniel leaves to chop the wood I need, in the back lot. But you must accept Israel's escort?"

"Thank you Rebecca! Shall I keep him overnight or should I send him home right away?", Mingo said, but with a frown shining in this bright brown eyes.

Rebecca knew something suddenly and simply smiled. "He can get you half-way there, and turn around; you are barely limping anymore. Would that be all right?" she asked.

"Again Rebecca, I can't thank you enough. For your care, your hospitality, your friendship. And for giving me back my freedom. You'll explain to Daniel, right?" Mingo said, the frown had gone.

Rebecca simply nodded, picking up the old bandage and pouring them both a nice hot cup of tea.

"Israel, if Mingo needs you all the way, you stick with him young man", commanded his mother. She had given them both extra scarves and mittens. There was nearly two inches of snow and Mingo only had his short moccasins on. She knew in her bones, she was after all the wife of Daniel Boone, that this snow would be gone by the morrow. But Mingo needed to go home today, before Daniel really got on his nerves.

"Yes ma'am'", Israel acknowledged his mother. He was proud to be taking Mingo back home, a task usually done by his pa.

Rebecca had packed them some meat that would keep, until they could rest. She had given Mingo some coffee; he had deserted his lodge nearly three weeks ago and had had no time to stop at the fort to replenish his " white man's favorite". And she waved them good-bye as together, they took, the trail for Chota. She knew Daniel would be angry all of five minutes at everyone's deception and then, he would realize they were alone, for the first time in a week and would be alone for many hours. Rebecca knew exactly how to make sure her husband was well occupied during those few hours. And she smiled thinking about Mingo, who didn't really want Israel to reach his lodge.

They had walked about two hours, Mingo's limp was much better, he didn't need a stick anymore, he was simply careful of how and where he stepped. Neither of them walked at the pace they were accustomed. Israel had too many memories of being carried in Mingo' arms or on his shoulder, of Mingo slowing down to accommodate the young child he was, to begrudge one moment of their slow walk on the trail. He enjoyed spending time with Mingo as much today, as he did in years past. Probably more so now. The Cherokee had always treated him right, with respect and open affection; now he was treating him as his equal, as a man in his own right. Even his pa, had trouble with this at times. Mingo was quiet on the trail. Israel understood, as his ma had, that Mingo could not take too much of the white man's ways, even with a friendship as long and as important, as the one shared with his pa.

He called a halt, two hours into the trail. Mingo smiled and nodded and promptly made himself a place to rest on a log. He grabbed a few pines branches, moved the snow, and using his blanket to put a buffer between the snow and his backbone, sat down. He knew Israel would get a fire going, and he would enjoy a few warm moments before going forward. Israel would probably turn back in another two, perhaps three hours and be home in less time than that. It would be dark when he got home, but Rebecca would not be worried.

He had been lost in thoughts of his lodge, of a warm fire inside, of being greeted and welcomed by friends when suddenly a cup was thrust into his hand. "Hey Mingo, home already?"

Israel didn't expect much conversation. Silence is what his pa and Mingo and even Yadkin before he left Boonesborough had instilled in him; it was a quality they thrived all on.

Just as Israel was getting ready to throw snow on the fire and to shake Mingo out of his rest, he heard people walking softly on the trail. He nudged Mingo awake.

"Who's there? ", he inquired. Mingo rose, ready, and lifting his rifle quickly, added his voice, repeating in Cherokee "Who's there? Friend or foe?"

"Mingo, is it you", came a young female voice, just before advancing forward. Morning Dew, the youngest daughter of Bright Rainbow, was all smiles. "Mother was worried about you. We had received the news of you resting at Daniel Boone's home but none since. She sent me to check on you."

Morning Dew was a little younger than Israel, who was blushing madly at this point.

Mingo smiled. He wondered what Daniel would say if he took his son home to Chota and if Morning Dew and he were to enjoy some privileged moments together. Then he remembered his British upbringing and also knew Daniel would frown on this.

But he was very happy to see Bright Rainbow's daughter on the trail. "I am going home and Israel was traveling with me on the trail; are you thirsty daughter? I would travel with you now, if you need to take some rest, I will wait."

Morning Dew was feeling special, Mingo often called her daughter; she knew her father and Mingo had been very old friends and he had been welcomed in their lodge often. She had no one to sew for, and was still too young to marry, so she always took care of Mingo's clothing needs under her mother's teaching.

"I will have some water and warm my hands to your fire Mingo, if you don't mind. And you could change into those booted moccasins I made for you, they are warmer".

"Thank you daughter. I appreciate the gift of beauty you made for me. I will thank your mother as soon as we reach Chota."

Israel stayed around a little, trying to chat with Morning Dew and found himself tongue-tied too much for his own good and then; he made his good-byes to them. "Mingo, we'll go hunting together soon, right? Pa said we could, if you felt up to it, before winter set in?" asked the eager son of his tall Kentuckian friend.

"Two weeks time, Israel, I will feel better. I will come knocking on the door and we'll go hunting together. Would that suit you my friend?" asked Mingo.

And on this joyful note, Mingo and Morning Dew took their leave of Israel and slowly made their way toward Chota.

"Mother has been missing you, Mingo", Morning Dew told him, "and if she had known you were coming today, she would have made you a feast and warmed your lodge. Maybe she will warm your lodge?" there was a teasing tone to Morning Dew's voice. Of course, she knew, like her sister knew, like all the villagers knew that Mingo and Bright Rainbow had a special friendship and a deep affection for one another.

"And I have been missing your mother as well, daughter; I do not need a feast, I just need to get home." And on that note, the warrior and the young squaw stayed on the trail, walking quietly, side by side. Mingo was already home.

Little boys saw them coming, before any women or braves saw them. They ran forward welcoming Mingo home. Soon, many more were swarming around. The village felt completed when all the sons, daughters, women and men were living in it.

Bright Rainbow came forth, saying nothing, smiling.

"Daughter, go fetch some wood to warm Mingo's lodge, I will make supper for him in our own", she was addressing her daughter and telling other would-be greeters that Mingo was welcomed in her lodge this night, where snow on the ground, often found family inside their own.

Mingo went toward his lodge, he wanted to change, and remove the last dressing that he didn't need any more. While he always kept an extra vest at Daniel's cabin, he had been wearing the same clothes for too long. He had been inside his lodge for only a few moments when Morning Dew came in, carrying a bucket of water and some small logs for a fire.

"Thank you daughter, I will start my own fire", he needed a few moments of privacy.

Supper had been a friendly affair, as supper always was in the Cherokee village. Spring Flower had also been overjoyed by Mingo's return and also had a gift for him, a new belt, with the same marking her mother had done on his last vest. He was very grateful.

As he was ready to take his leave of the three women, Bright Rainbow asked Spring Flower "You will keep your sister warm tonight, daughter? and as her eldest daughter acquiesced to her mother's demand, Bright Rainbow asked Mingo "May I walk you to your lodge, my husband's friend?

Mingo nodded at her two daughters, smiling fondly and putting his hand on Bright Rainbow's arm, he said "I would look on it with favor Bright Rainbow. Walk with me, my friend."

They left the lodge, knowing the two young girls would share not only warmth tonight, but laughter in plenty. The two sisters were safe together, their lodges nestled in the heart of the Cherokee's village.

It was a brisk night, full of autumn wind, lighted with shining stars. They would wake to the melting sound of the fresh snow of the last two days.

**Mingo lifted the flap on his lodge and walked in first, making sure there were some warmth left over from the small kindled fire he had made when he arrived in Chota. Morning Dew had provided him with enough wood for a fresh night, and using his flint steel, he promptly put the smaller kindling to the burning test. The lodge had been aired often during his absence; his furs smelled of the fresh air, his bedding was refurnished. All this in his absence. He was blessed in the life he had chosen for himself.**

**He got up, stretching his long limb, and smiled at Bright Rainbow, "You have been so welcoming to me my friend tonight; I have missed you so." and he took her, firmly, in an embrace that was promising. **

**Bright Rainbow smiled, and her smile shone in the twilight of the shadows in Mingo's lodge. "I was worry for you Mingo when you didn't come back, I went often to the river to ask the Creator to keep you in his thoughts. And then, a white man came to bring us the news of your ordeal, or part of it. Will you let me take care of you, Mingo, my husband's friend"?**

**She deftly removed the lace around his top of his vest, so he could pull it up above his head; this vest was new, she had left it on his bedding when she heard he was hurt and healing in his white brother's home. And she was pleased that as soon as he had returned, he had used the water on his body and put the new vest on his strong chest. Mingo was a strong man, many of the women of the village watched him, come and go, being seemingly unaware of the stares in his direction. But Bright Rainbow knew better now. He knew. Mingo always knew. And that was a healing balm, for he was not always faring so well within the duality of his soul.**

**Tonight, she would be his. He would be hers. And he would please her, always; Mingo was a gallant lover, never distant, always giving. **

**She watched him removed the vest, she admired the strength of his shoulders, the bulk of his chest. And not ashamed of herself, she lifted her dress above her head; he helped her, and the feel of his arms on her dress, told her all she needed to know. Tonight, would be blistering hot between them.**

"**Do not put too much wood on the fire, Mingo!" said she, laughing. **

**He removed his trousers, and she could tell, he was lacking nothing. He was ready for her, right now, he could chose to take her, without regards for her needs; but she knew. She grasped him, slowly teasing him, holding as strongly as she could. He removed her hand from himself, laughed loudly. And lifted her up. She worried a little for his leg, she had seen the best of him and she had seen his scar as well. He carried her, gently, on the furs of his bedding. They were both naked, touching everything, everywhere, caressing, murmuring, claiming skin to skin, before the blending could happen. Mingo never took her quickly. He went on, until he felt her melting, needing and then, only then, would he take her and let her feel all of him. And together, they would fly on those wings of desire, need and pleasure. And always, he would tell how soft and how pretty she was.**

**She felt his need, yet he kept it all restrain. Wanting was such a deep counterpoint of his loving, of his tenderness; he would hold on, he would wait, and not until would he feel turn to complete abandon, would he rip away inside her, deep and deeper.**

**And then he would murmur to her some more term of endearment. Holding her tight, he would cover her with furs and body part and he would asked her, so softly, to lay beside him, until dawn came.**

**As a dawn came, he would again, take her, even more patiently. Even more tenderly. Hands touching, needing, bonding together in the rhythm of the old dance of humanity.**

**She never wanted to leave him alone. **

**But she did. Would Mingo ever be completed?**


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Ten days after his return to Chota, Mingo got dressed in warm winter clothes and left at dawn , with his rifle, his knife, his bandoleer , powder and shot; blanket roll beneath his pack. He was going , on the trail that led to the white men's settlement, to Daniel's cabin; to fulfill the promise of the last fall hunt.

He was looking forward to spending this last hunt of the year, with his friend and his son. His limp was nearly gone, he was still feeling the aftereffect of the weakened state he had been in. Bright Rainbow had fed him well; she had feed his soul, his body, his inner desires.

She had given him many nights of healing and pleasure. He found himself cherishing her , more and more. Perhaps ….

"Mingo, will you tell a story tonight?" pleaded Israel, whose turn it was to stand guard while his father and their friend slept after the first day of hunting.

The weather had turned harsh and Mingo had not yet recovered all his strength, but he, nevertheless, chose to hunt with the Boones. Rebecca was going to spend a week with Jemima, tending to her two grandsons as much as she could. The Cherokee looked at the exuberant face of the young man and taking his time before answering, saw him grow more impatient.

"Would a song do, Israel? After you put more wood on the fire, so your old Indian friend can remain warm tonight?"

Israel did not need to be told twice, he gathered some of the branches around the camp, split them deftly into neat little pieces and added a few to the fire; it would be a small fire but it would provide the Cherokee the warm he needed before sleep. He was wearing his warm winter vest and had a blanket around his shoulders. He took a long satisfied sip from his tin cup of warm coffee, nodded at Daniel, as expectant as his son, and began.

« Tonight, I heard the call

Of the wild bird, in the middle of the path

It felt like he was leaving

But I knew he was calling to me

As does the call of the Great Spirit

So does the call of the wild bird

Fly, Fly, Fly, my heart soars above

I'm the brother of the wild bird

Yesterday, I mixed forever

My blood to the blood of my lover

And under the moon, medicine men

Went wild into the warriors' dance

As does the call of the Great Spirit

So does the call of the wild bird

Fly, Fly, Fly, my heart soars above

I'm the brother of the wild bird

As the drumbeat is bound to stop

Under the tent, they shall go

And in my arms, my sweet bride

Softly will rest

As does the call of the Great Spirit

So does the call of the wild bird

Fly, Fly, Fly, my heart soars above

I'm the brother of the wild bird

As she will wake in the morrow,

She'll find me gone

With the wild bird, I will have left

As the wild bird, I will leave my nest

As does the call of the Great Spirit

So does the call of the wild bird

Fly, Fly, Fly, my heart soars above

I'm the brother of the wild bird »

As the last note left Mingo, the wind began. It was almost as if the air around the three men had decided to let them have a moment of intimacy. But now, it was time for nature to take over. And the fall began to end slowly. Mingo and Daniel heard the call of the land, and rested their heads on the pillow of the earth. They were safe under the stars under the watchful guard of the youngest of them. Trust.

**The End.**


End file.
